It Was
by Missmishka
Summary: Rated for some language. Buffy reflects on her love for Spike after Chosen. Emotional song fic inspired by Chely Wright's song It Was. PREQUEL to my It Will Be Again series.


DISCLAIMER: All characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and many others connected to the BtVS series. The story is not intended to infringe upon the rights of those owners.  
  
The song used in this fic is Chely Wright's "It Was" from her CD Single White Female. If you have not heard the song, please find a way to get it, listen to it and imagine the whole Spuffy relationship. I swear you'll be crying your eyes out in no time as you match up the lyrics with the emotional moments those two had together.  
  
This piece is intended to be a total post-"Chosen" tearjerker. It focuses primarily on the emotional moments between Buffy & Spike in "Touched" "End of Days" and "Chosen" with minor references to moments throughout the series.  
  
// // Contain the song's lyrics.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It Was  
  
//I guess we guess our way through life// //How many times do we really know for sure//  
  
Spike awoke with a start on the cot and the First vanished from Buffy's sight.  
  
"Buffy?" he asked her with a bit of sleepy confusion and a lot of loving concern on his face, "Is something wrong?"  
  
She almost smiled at him - a smile to show that she returned that love, but this wasn't the time for that.  
  
"No. Yeah. I just realized something. Something that really never occurred to me before. We're gonna win," she answered instead. For once in her life she knew something without a doubt and felt no fear or hesitation in admitting and facing that knowledge.  
  
They were going to beat this.  
  
//I was just hoping for the best// //Then I woke up in those lovin' arms of yours//  
  
There were no words to describe what he'd done for her by being there in that abandoned house.  
  
That he truly cared that much, touched her heart and soul in ways that were still so new they scared her. The words he said to express his love to her cracked every wall she'd ever tried to erect around her heart to keep him out and as he slid in through those cracks she became stronger than she'd ever been before.  
  
He had in her something she had lost so long ago.  
  
Faith - belief in herself and good and the future.  
  
Being held in his arms that night healed her. Every doubt she had faded. Her insecurities were brushed aside by his hand lovingly stroking her hair as he held her head to his chest and they were replaced with the conviction that she could do anything that this battle required of her.  
  
To leave him the following morning had been hard to do, but he had given her the strength and conviction to be able to do this and do it on her own.  
  
Still she wished she had done more than slip from his loving arms, jot down an impersonal little note and leave.  
  
She should have moved a little closer to his body and held him as tightly as he had held her through the night. She should have allowed her fingers to trace his features and memorize the feel of his soft cool skin as her eyes recorded the moment forever - the peace and serenity of his expression as he slept beside her. She should have kissed him, a feather light touch of her lips to his or his forehead or his stunning cheekbone, but she knew that would wake him and she's had to do it alone even if he would be with her in spirit making sure she succeeded.  
  
//What I felt was unmistakable// //When I fell for you//  
  
Looking back, Buffy could see hundred of moments that told her she was fooling herself by labeling what she felt for Spike as anything other than what it was.  
  
When he made love to her or simply fucked her brains out, she told herself it was just lust. An itch that needed scratched and he was the only one volunteering for the duty.  
  
When he said he loved her, she told herself he was a demon and didn't know a damned thing about love.  
  
When they fought, fists and feet flying at each other, she told herself it was hatred driving them to hit harder with their blows and verbal jabs.  
  
When they simply talked she told herself it wasn't friendship or love or companionship it was a lack of any other options for her. He was the only one who wouldn't be all surprised and judgmental about what she felt and said because he was an evil dead thing that had felt and said much worse in his life so he'd never dare judge her.  
  
When he smiled at her, touched her body as if worshipping her, looked into her eyes with love and desire and want and need and such care, she told herself the reactions she had were simply from being admired. It didn't matter that Xander had often looked at her in a similar fashion back in the beginning and never once had she reacted to his open admiration with an increase in her heartbeat as emotions began pounding through her system. Only when Spike looked at her like that did her stomach flip over, her knees go weak, her core grow moist and heart ache with the need to allow herself to look back at him with the same things in her eyes.  
  
But always she told herself it wasn't love on her part.  
  
//Who thought I could laugh so hard//  
  
He'd made her happy.  
  
So often he'd know just what to say or how to look at her to make all her burdens lighter and get a reluctant smile or uncontrollable laugh from her.  
  
//Then turn around and cry so many tears//  
  
They had hurt each other so much.  
  
To deny the depths of their emotions and the pain they were capable of causing each other with that denial they had attacked verbally with insults and truths that tore at their guts and left them both sobbing with regret and remorse.  
  
She had cried her eyes out at how much he made her feel and the unbelievable things she loved doing with him. She had sobbed over having pushed him too far and nearly gotten raped in response then sobbed at him going on to someone else before leaving her completely.  
  
She'd cried at knowing that she had hurt him so much and allowed herself to be hurt just as much by her actions. She'd wept her heart out at how beautiful and pure their love was when he came back to her with a soul.  
  
Now tears leaked from her eyes every time she closed them and tried to sleep without dreaming of all they'd had and she would never have again.  
  
//I used to have so many doubts// //But one by one you made them disappear//  
  
She had been broken after they all voted her out like the weakest link when she had always tried to be the strongest.  
  
As always he had come to her.  
  
She'd wanted to quit, been ready to really finally give up, and he reminded her that wasn't her style.  
  
"You were their leader, and you still are. This isn't something you gave up, it's something they took," he had looked into her eyes so passionately as he said it. "We can take it back."  
  
She'd had enough of it. The responsibility, the pain, the guilt, the inability to feel things that others so often took for granted and abused.  
  
"Being the slayer made me different, but it's my fault I stayed that way. People are always trying to connect to me and I just slip away," she remembered the conversation and smiled bitterly at the way she'd chuckled then. "You should know."  
  
"I seem to recall a certain amount of connecting," he had smirked a little as he sat next to her on that bed.  
  
"We were never close," she had lied in an attempt to close the connection between them. "You just wanted me because I was...unattainable."  
  
He'd jumped up and turned on her angrily, "You think that's all it was?"  
  
"Please, let's not go over the past," she couldn't handle more emotions at that moment.  
  
"Oh, no no," typical Spike wasn't about to let it go down like that. "Let's hold on here. I'm hummed along to your pity-ditty, and I think I should have the mic for a bit."  
  
"Fine," she had tried for her bitchiest tone. "The stage is yours. Cheer me up."  
  
"You're insufferable," he'd said with such conviction the words stabbed her unprotected heart.  
  
"Thank you," she attempted to hide the hurt caused. "That really helped."  
  
"I'm not trying to cheer you up," his beautiful blue eyes had locked with hers.  
  
"What are you trying to say?" she had had to know.  
  
"I don't know. I'll know when I'm done saying it," she still smiled at the memory of those words and the way he'd said them. "Something pissed me off and I just - 'unattainable.' That's what it was."  
  
"Fine. I'm attainable," she had said tiredly. "I'm an attain-a-thon. May I please just go to sleep?"  
  
"You listen to me," he had refused to give in to her defeated spirits and knelt before on as she sat on the bed. "I've been alive a bit longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that. I've seen things you couldn't imagine, and done things I prefer you didn't. I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong bloody calls," his emotional eyes locked powerfully with hers. "A hundred plus years, and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of: you."  
  
It had taken all her strength not to crumble under those words. To look away from him rather than throw herself into his arms and find solace.  
  
"Hey, look at me," he turned her gaze back to his with a firm yet gentle hand. "I'm not asking you for anything. When I say, "I love you," it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me," she had loved him so much in that moment nothing could have stopped the tear that fell from her eyes at his words. "I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy."  
  
"I don't wanna be the one," she had said quietly while mentally adding, "for anyone but you."  
  
Then he had made her laugh, like only he could with a smirking, "I don't wanna be this good looking and athletic. We all have crosses to bear."  
  
Just like that she had been restored.  
  
His words had put the life and fire and strength back inside her.  
  
//What I found was unbelievable// //But I believe it's true//  
  
In his arms she found things she had never known with another.  
  
All that she had felt for Angel and Riley in the entirety of those relationships could never compare to what she felt in one moment in Spike's embrace.  
  
From his being the most unlikely source of comfort for her when her mother first became sick to the instant his fingers meshed tightly with her own as they said their final goodbye, he somehow became the only one.  
  
//You ask what I felt// //When you walked through the door// //Was it fear? Was it clear?// //It was all that and more//  
  
It wasn't until that night after leaving him to get the scythe that she saw him again due to his inability to follow her in the daylight.  
  
He walked in the front door of her house and there was such relief in him when he saw her walking down the stairs with the weapon in hand.  
  
"Well, pointy and wooden is not exactly the look I wanna know better, but it does have flair. Can see why a girl would ditch a fella for one of these," he had said when she tried to distract him with talk of the scythe.  
  
"I'm sorry about that," she had said with quiet honesty as she turned from his soul seeing gaze.  
  
"It doesn't matter. You're back in the bosom," he had followed her toward the kitchen. "All's forgiven. And, uh," he had moved in front of her and looked at her a little uncertainly, "last night...was just a glitch. A bit of cold comfort from the cellar dweller. Let's don't make a thing out of it."  
  
"Great. I have work to do," she had tried to dismiss it all as he appeared to be doing.  
  
They'd bickered a bit trying to deny their feelings and he turned to leave and this time she was the one to follow.  
  
"You're a dope," she had had to say.  
  
"I'm a what?" he had asked in surprise.  
  
"You're a dope. And a bonehead. And you're shirty," she had continued.  
  
"Have you gone completely carrot-top?"  
  
"Do you see this?" she had asked while indicating the scythe and ignoring yet another of his weird British expressions. "This may actually help me fight my war. This might be the key to everything. And the reason I'm holding it is because of you. Because of the strength that you gave me last night. Look, I am tired of defensiveness and weird, mixed signals. You know, I have Faith for that. Let's just get to the truth here, OK? I don't know how you felt about last night, but I will not - "  
  
"Terrified," he had interrupted with a shaky breath as he looked away from her.  
  
"Of what?" she wondered if they were the same fears she had at that moment.  
  
"Last night was..." he had exhaled slowly and looked up, "God, I'm such a jerk. I can't do this."  
  
"Spike." she had no idea what she would have said, maybe she had just needed to feel his name on her lips at that moment.  
  
"It was the best night of my life. If you poke fun at me, you bloody well better use that, 'cause I couldn't bear it. It may not mean that much to you, but - " he had said with such passion and nerves and near fear.  
  
"I just told you it did," she looked into his eyes and guesses now that she had succeeded in disguising the love she felt for him then.  
  
He had sighed with such hope and relief before saying, "Yeah...I hear you say it, but... I've lived for soddin' ever, Buffy. I've done everything. Done things with you I can't spell, but... I've never... been close... to anyone. Least of all, you. 'Til last night. All I did was...," he looked at her and smiled so softly her heart nearly burst at the memory, "hold you, watch you sleep. And it was the best night of my life. So, yeah... I'm... terrified."  
  
"You don't have to be," she had said softly and hoped those words would be enough.  
  
"Were you there with me?" he had looked at her as if he needed to believe the words but had been hurt too much allow himself to accept them.  
  
"I was," she had met his gaze head on without reserve or hesitation with the whole truth shining in her eyes.  
  
"What does that mean?" he had so obviously been afraid to believe in what he was seeing and hearing beyond her spoken words.  
  
"I don't know," she didn't have the courage to make a full confession just then. "Does it have to mean something?" she would have told him everything if he pushed her to.  
  
"No," part of her will always regret that he hadn't pushed. "Not right now."  
  
"Maybe when," she had begun not knowing where she intended to take the statement.  
  
"No," he had stopped her wishful thinking with an upraised hand, "let's just leave it."  
  
"Ok," she had agreed almost gratefully.  
  
"We'll go be heroes," he had ended the moment by saying.  
  
And he had been that, she thought tearfully.  
  
//It was real ... it was magic//  
  
The first time she'd taken him inside herself.  
  
Part of her still couldn't believe it had happened, but she remembered every second of it.  
  
She'd felt his erection beneath those tight jeans he wore and as if possessed she'd pushed her skirt and underwear out of the way, unzipped his pants and sank down on his hard length.  
  
Her world had slowed as she felt him sink into her, filling a void she'd had her entire life and filling it so perfectly the moment had been magical for them both.  
  
His expression in that moment would never fade from her memory and she'd never try to push it out.  
  
It had been so beautiful and captured the essence of their joining.  
  
Surprise, disbelief, love, desire, need, want, hunger, passion, trust, fear - it had all been there in that moment between them.  
  
//It was calm ... it was savage//  
  
They had run the gamut of emotions.  
  
Most of the time it had been rough and cold and angry and hard. They had screwed, fucked and mated. The only thing soft about it being their flesh and they had bit and clawed that softness to mar it with cuts and bites and bruises to attest to the lack of any gentleness in what they had.  
  
But then they had moments like their very last time together in the basement of her house on a ratty little cot with a house full of friends and practical strangers above their heads preparing for the battle to come. Those times they had lovingly explored each other's bodies. Tracing every contour with light touches of lips and fingertips. Their words had been soft and while she never spoke of loving him she would tell him with sighs and whimpers and hesitant whispers how much those moments touched her inside and out.  
  
That last time, a stolen moment to be together and show each other with their bodies the things they could not say aloud, had shown her the truth of the lies she'd been trying to tell herself for so long when it came to Spike.  
  
//It was cool as a breeze//  
  
His skin had always been so cool.  
  
He built fires within her that only he could put out with his cool hands and lips and flesh.  
  
//It was warm to the touch//  
  
He'd always marveled at her heat when they made love.  
  
His body would shudder with rapture at her every touch.  
  
When her hot little hands or mouth or body would envelop his he would always cry out in delight at her heat.  
  
//It was never enough//  
  
With their advanced healing and recovery abilities they had rarely just done it once.  
  
Each time they got together to make love or screw they would do it again and again and again and still want to do it again and again and again.  
  
It never lasted long enough to satisfy the aches in both their spirits.  
  
He never went deep enough to stay inside her forever.  
  
She never held him hard enough to prove that it all meant something.  
  
They hadn't talked enough, touched enough, kissed enough, loved enough for him to be gone.  
  
//It was always too much//  
  
From the beginning it overwhelmed her.  
  
His presence was never a tame one in her life.  
  
He'd scared her in the beginning with his confidence and determination to kill her to add another slayer to his legacy.  
  
After being chipped he'd annoyed, harassed, amused and intrigued her.  
  
When he'd fallen in love with her he had terrified her because she didn't want it to be real.  
  
His words, his kisses, his touch, his eyes, his truths, his love, his trust, his loyalty and devotion had been more than she could handle.  
  
The feelings, good and bad, that he stirred inside her at all times had been to raw and real and powerful for her to face until too late.  
  
//It did all the things love does//  
  
Anyone who knows anything about life knows that love is what makes it Heaven and Hell on earth.  
  
It is pleasure and pain. Acceptance and rejection. Truth and denial. Hope and cynicism. Strength and weakness. Need and indifference. Control and submission.  
  
Love and hate.  
  
They had it all with so many highs and lows to forever haunt her memories.  
  
//That's how I knew// //It was//  
  
He's gone now.  
  
A champion like no other having sacrificed his life for all of theirs.  
  
And with his departure from this life and this world the timer's gone off to announce that the cookie dough she was just days ago is done baking and ready to eat.  
  
Only problem is the one the cookie was made for is gone.  
  
Of all the mistakes she had made, not telling him she loved him before that very end is the worst.  
  
She'd known before that moment.  
  
She'd known when she tried to deny it to Angel.  
  
She'd known when Spike made love to her even though she had Angel breath and he was stung by the memory of having seen her kiss the man he thought she loved for all eternity.  
  
She'd known when he held her all through that night in a house she'd kind of evicted the rightful owner from.  
  
She'd known when she realized Giles was distracted her with his 'training' to prevent her from being there to protect Spike from Robin. Known by the tears that streamed down her face as she ran and prayed she wouldn't reach him too late.  
  
She'd known when she saved him from the First - when she had had to save him from the First.  
  
Part of her had known throughout every second they had known each other that he was the one for her.  
  
But she had never said it in a time or place he would believe her and so he died for her without knowing that he had her heart and it had broken in ways she never would have dreamed possible as she held his hand and watched him begin to burn under the sun's rays while he saved the world.  
  
Now all she had were the memories.  
  
The moments she would cherish forever of when they laughed and loved and fought side by side, so in sync they were as one in their strength.  
  
And the regret that would haunt her forever that she had confessed to him too late what it was.  
  
~*~  
  
The End 


End file.
